Chapter 1

My mother always preached the rule of "Equal Value Exchange." The better the college you got into, the more allowance you received.

She put a literal price tag on my and my twin brother Noah’s college lives based on our schools.

"Get into an Ivy League, and you get five hundred dollars a month."

"Get into a top-tier regional university, you get four hundred. A standard college gets you three hundred."

"If you end up at a local community college, I'm sorry, but you'll only get a two-hundred-dollar monthly safety net."

To survive college, I pulled endless all-nighters, burned through countless pens, and finally got my acceptance letter from Harvard.

Meanwhile, Noah skipped classes every day to play video games. He barely managed to get into a local community college.

For three years, I scraped by on five hundred dollars a month. When I got a high fever, I only dared to chug tap water and tough it out.

To pay for my textbooks for the next semester, I worked three jobs a day and even went to a clinic to sell my blood plasma behind my mother's back.

I always thought Noah, living on his two-hundred-dollar allowance, must be having a much harder time than me.

Until the end of the semester, when I brought my scholarship money home, wanting to buy him a nice new winter coat.

But the moment I pushed the door open, I saw Noah wearing limited-edition sneakers, casually dropping a hundred dollars on an in-game bundle.

My mother was standing beside him with a smile, serving him fresh fruit.

"Sweetie, is three thousand dollars enough for this month? If not, I can transfer you more."

I froze in the doorway, looked at my frostbitten hands, and laughed.

It turned out her so-called "Equal Value Exchange" was a trap meant only for me.

I stood at the door, still clutching the brand-new winter coat.

The living room was warm, the heater blasting. The sneakers on Noah’s feet were a pair I had seen in a mall display window.

Limited edition. Eight hundred dollars.

He swiped his screen, and the satisfying chime of a hundred-dollar Apple Pay transaction rang out.

My mother walked over with a plate of sliced strawberries, her eyes crinkling with joy.

"Sweetie, is three thousand dollars enough for this month? If not, I can transfer you more."

Three thousand?! I thought I was mishearing things.

My mother had said: Ivy League gets five hundred, community college gets two hundred.

I thought Noah was getting two hundred. I thought he was struggling more than I was.

At the end of this semester, I had won a thousand-dollar academic scholarship.

After paying my dorm fees for the next semester, I grit my teeth and used the remaining money to buy him the designer coat he had been whining about for months. And this was what I got?

"Mom," I called out.

My mother turned around. She gasped when she saw me.

"You're back? Why didn't you call ahead?"

"Did you just say... three thousand?" I asked.

The air went silent for a few seconds.

Noah looked up from his phone, chewing on a strawberry. "Hey, Natalie. You’re back?"

My mother slammed the fruit plate onto the table. Her voice was so natural, she didn't even look guilty.

"You heard wrong. I said three hundred."

"Three hundred?"

I stared straight into her eyes. "Are you sure I heard wrong when you asked if three thousand was enough?"

The smile on my mother’s face began to crack. She darted a quick look at Noah.

Noah, however, was perfectly calm. He tossed his phone onto the couch. "Natalie, don't make a big deal out of nothing."

"A big deal out of nothing?"

I held out my hands. Every single finger was covered in raw, red frostbite. Two of them had split open, oozing blood.

"Do you have any idea how I survived this winter?"

"The cheapest side dish in the dining hall is three dollars. I only ate twice a day."

"I had a fever of a hundred and three degrees. I didn't dare go to the clinic. I drank tap water for three days straight to fight it off."

"To afford my textbooks for next semester, I worked three jobs a day. I cleaned the dining hall at five in the morning, handed out flyers at noon, and tutored kids at night."

"Five hundred dollars. You made me survive in Boston on five hundred dollars a month. And I did."

"But him," I pointed at Noah, "you give him three thousand a month?!"

My mother was silent for a few seconds. Suddenly, her guilt turned into self-righteous anger.

"Natalie, your brother is a young man. Naturally, his expenses are higher."

"Besides, he’s only at a community college. He already feels insecure. What’s wrong with me giving him a little extra money so he can live with some dignity?"

"You're a Harvard student. You're capable. I knew you could take care of yourself."

Hearing this, I felt as if a heavy block of concrete was crushing my chest. I couldn't breathe.

"So what? Just because I did well and I'm capable, I deserve to freeze in the winter? I deserve to have my allowance cut to the bone?"

"Then what about the rule you set?" I snapped back.

"You said Ivy League gets five hundred, community college gets two hundred. You said it was an equal exchange! The better the school, the higher the allowance!"

"Those were your exact words!"

My mother turned her face away.

"That was just to motivate you to study. You actually took it seriously?"

"Yes, I took it seriously."

"I took every single word seriously."

My eyes stung with tears, but I forced the bitter lump down my throat.

I tossed the designer winter coat onto the shoe rack.

"Keep it. He probably thinks it's trash anyway."

With that, I turned around and walked out of the house.

Behind me, my mother’s annoyed voice echoed. "Natalie! Why are you acting so spoiled? Come back here!"

I didn't look back. My ears were buzzing, and my chest throbbed with a sharp, physical ache.

I pulled out my phone and checked my bank app. After buying the coat and my train ticket, my balance was: $14.50.

This was everything I had in the world.